


follow you anywhere (or just your apartment)

by cultmagic



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Civilian Jason Todd, Damian Wayne Has a Crush, Damian Wayne is Robin, Damian Wayne is a Little Shit, Gen, Jason Todd is Not Red Hood, Not Beta Read, POV Damian Wayne, Stalking, its an accident, jason thinks its hilarious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cultmagic/pseuds/cultmagic
Summary: Damian has a crush. He handles it about as well as can be expected of the son of Bruce "has never seen a boundary he didn't cross" Wayne.For Bottom Jason Todd Week 2020, Day 7: Free Day!
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, unrequited Jason Todd/Damian Wayne
Comments: 22
Kudos: 449
Collections: Bottom Jason Todd Week 2020





	follow you anywhere (or just your apartment)

**Author's Note:**

> rip tim he didn't ask for any of this

The first time Damian sees his Beloved, he is weaving his way through the crowd at a Wayne Foundation gala, dressed in the waitstaff uniform and smiling stiffly at anyone who spares him a glance. He’s carrying a tray of champagne, exchanging empty glasses for full, and when a man snaps at him for brushing too close in the crush of people, he takes it with grace.

Damian is standing against the wall when he spots him and pushes off to follow surreptitiously when the man leaves his line of sight. 

He is not, by Damian’s estimation, incredibly attractive. He’s not especially tall, perhaps around Drake’s height, and his physique is slim. His hair is dark, perhaps an auburn with how it glints red as he passes under a chandelier, and styled into a coif. His cheekbones are high, his jaw is square, and his eyes, when Damian gets close enough to see them, are a gem-bright blue.

Damian thinks he is wholly unremarkable, but this does not explain why Damian follows him all night, transfixed perhaps by how utterly average he is.  
…

It is one day a week after the gala that Father forces Damian to stay in for the night; the previous night he had been stabbed and, though it is shallow, the stitches are in an awkward place on his ribs that makes complex movement impossible. It’s just as well, though, because it gives Damian unsupervised time with the cave’s computer.

He does a facial recognition search on footage from the gala and comes up with a name: Jason Peter Todd. Further research reveals he has lived in Crime Alley his entire life though there are long gaps in his housing records, he received his GED at nineteen, and he has been charged with several counts of petty theft and vandalism throughout his childhood. 

Utterly unremarkable, Damian thinks even as he stares at Jason’s mugshot and memorizes his last known address.  
…

Todd’s apartment is small and sparsely decorated. From where he sits on the fire escape, Robin has a clear view of Todd’s living room. Todd himself is in the kitchen, separated from the living room by a high counter on which a dead plant is resting. Robin can’t see what he’s doing, but from the muffled clatter of metal, he assumes Todd is cooking. He wonders if Todd is any good at it. He has no reason to, but Robin thinks he is.

Really, he should get back to patrol. He only meant to stop by, look in and see what hovel Todd calls home, but now he can’t seem to pull himself away. Todd is relaxed in his home, bobbing his head to music Robin can’t hear. His face has lost the tension it carried at the gala and he looks, Robin hesitates to think, beautiful.

Still, there remains the fact that Todd’s house is shabby and unattractive, and it will not do.  
…

Robin is, strangely enough, on fairly good terms with Poison Ivy when she’s not trying to kill himself and Batman. He appreciates her crusade for the environment and she respects his devotion to animals. Once, when she kidnapped him and held him captive in her vines for three hours, they traded tips for vegan cooking and discussed the ethicacy of farming genetically modified fruits and vegetables until Batman and Nightwing finished with the Riddler and came to cut him out.

It is because of this tenuous camaraderie that Robin feels confident enough to ask her for a favor.

Robin drops the flower off on Todd’s fire escape and leaps away to watch from a neighboring rooftop. Todd arrives home and almost immediately spots the gift. He comes to the window, disappears, then reappears with a gas mask and gloves. Robin feels a pang of pride that his Beloved (and he will not be examining that further) is so able to protect himself despite being a civilian. 

Todd opens the window and taps the plant gently, then a bit more firmly. When no pollen drifts up from the bloom, Todd leans out his window and looks around. Todd cannot see him, but Robin still feels a thrill when his eyes run over him. 

Finally, Todd stops searching and takes the plant inside. Robin adjusts his position so he can see more clearly into the window. Todd places the plant on the high counter and looks dubiously at it. He taps on his phone for a moment, leaning against the counter, then puts it away with a shrug. He waters the plant, turns off the light, and leaves the room. 

Robin smirks; it doesn’t matter if Todd never figures out how to take care of it, it will never die.  
…

Robin’s midnight visits become commonplace, as do his gifts. They’re never anything too grand, nothing to draw suspicion to his or his family’s civilian identities. He mostly leaves small things, sometimes on the fire escape and sometimes in front of his door, tasteful decor and modestly expensive cookware. There’s an analog clock, sleek and dark red, that Todd hangs in his kitchen only after taking it apart to look for foreign elements. He’s left a number of clothing articles, all tailored to Todd’s nearest exact measurements. He leaves chocolate, once, but has the displeasure of watching his Beloved throw them away immediately. He supposes that’s fair; with the number of freaks populating Gotham, it would be unwise to eat food given by a stranger. 

He thinks Drake and Pennyworth suspect something, though there is no way they could know just what he’s up to. He’s glad for that; their knowledge would not be so horrible, but both Father and Grayson would be intolerable, if for different reasons. 

But he has no time to worry about this; his Beloved’s birthday is today and he needs to leave a truly spectacular gift worthy of the occasion. He’s in street clothes for once, carrying with him an al Ghul family heirloom: a dagger, more for decoration and ceremony than use, wrapped in fine cloth and tucked neatly into a box. The hilt is set with opals the color of Todd’s eyes. He thinks it will look lovely displayed in Todd’s living room—or better yet, his bedroom. 

Damian enters the apartment building and takes the stairs to the fourth floor. He passes a man, visibly drunk, in the stairwell and grimaces. He wishes he could do more for his Beloved, like buy him a nicer apartment in a better part of town, but that may be an overreach on his part. He can’t imagine Todd would like the implication that he cannot take care of himself. 

He arrives at Todd’s door and bends to set down his gift and leave, aware that Todd’s shift at a diner two blocks down is ending and he will be home soon, but as he’s standing Todd’s door opens and for the first time he’s close enough to touch his Beloved. 

His Beloved who is pointing a switchblade at him and scowling. The scowl quickly melts away into confusion and he says, “You’re my stalker?”

Damian frowns, indignation alight in his gut. Stalker?

He lowers the switchblade, though doesn’t put it away. “You’re the creepy fucker who's been leaving me shit on my fire escape? You’re a kid!”

“I’m not a child,” says Damian as he stands. 

“Like fuck,” says Todd. “You’re, what, fourteen at most?”

Damian corrects quietly, “Thirteen,” as a thought starts to take shape. He hadn’t thought how it might look from the outside, but he supposes leaving anonymous gifts with someone he’s never formally met could be construed as quite...creepy, though he’s loath to admit it. 

Todd must see the realization on his face because in the next second he’s flicking the knife closed and laughing with relief. “Ah shit, kid, I thought I was gonna get murdered.”

“I would never allow that to happen,” says Damian. 

Todd raises an eyebrow, still smiling (it’s a wonderful smile), and says, “That’s a nice thought. What’s your name?”

“Damian Wayne,” he says, tilting his chin.

Todd chokes on the little huffs of laughter still shaking his chest. “Wayne?” he croaks. “Jesus, that explains the ten thousand dollar swiss clock.”

“I only want the best for you, Beloved.”

“That’s a new one,” says Todd. He looks at their feet. “Is that for me?”

Damian bends, picks it up, and thrusts it out at Todd, immediately feeling ridiculous for it. “Yes, for your birthday.”

Todd looks alarmed again. “How do you know my—actually, nevermind. You’re a Wayne, explanation enough.” He sighs. “Fuck it, it’s late. Wanna come in? I’ve got cake and video games.”

Damian follows Todd in and sits at the counter. The plant is still there, bright red blooms healthy and full. “I’m vegan,” he says when Jason pulls down plates from the cabinet.

“Shit,” says Todd. “I got tea?”

“Please.”

Damian watches him, feeling warm and a little stupid; it’s become a familiar feeling in the last month or so, but only now has it become pleasant.

Todd puts a mug of earl grey in front of him. “All right, hand over the present.”

Damian passes it over the counter and waits in anticipation as Jason opens it. It’s the most important thing he’d ever offered to anyone and he knows—

“Is this a fucking knife?”

Damian blinked up at Todd who was holding the cloth away from the knife with pinched fingers. “A ceremonial dagger, but yes, it is a family heirloom.”

Todd gapes. “There are so many things wrong with this picture,” he says. “First of all, don’t give knives as anonymous gifts. It’s creepy, that's the sorta thing people do before they kill someone. Second,” he softens now, reaching out to ruffle Damian’s hair; Damian didn’t protest but only because he was trying to absorb what Todd was saying, not because he likes the contact, “don’t go giving away priceless family heirlooms to the first pretty boy you see, yeah?”

“You’re hardly the first pretty boy I have seen.”

“Fair,” says Todd, “then the first pretty boy who isn’t your brother.”

Damian sneers. “My brothers aren’t pretty.”

Todd laughs, a wonderful sound to match a wonderful smile. Damian regrets nothing.  
…

Around eleven o’clock, Todd’s window slides open. Damian snaps awake and grabs the dagger from the coffee table. Beside him, Todd stirs. Damian slides carefully in front of him; no harm will come to his Beloved tonight.

Nightwing sticks his head in and beams when he spots Damian. Damian very pointedly doesn’t put down the dagger. “I found him,” Nightwing says over his shoulder. He then proceeds to slide almost soundlessly inside. Behind him, Red Robin slides in with markedly less grace.

Todd sits up. “Um, what the fuck?” He leans around Damian. “Is this how you got that shit on my fire escape without me hearing you?”

“Who’re you?” asks Nightwing.

“The guy whose apartment you just broke into,” says Todd. “Also the guy who Damian here has been stalking for the last month.”

“Oh, my god,” says Red Robin. “Oh, my god.”

“Dami,” says Todd, and isn’t that nice? “How do you know them and why are they breaking into my apartment?”

Damian decides to break Father’s biggest rule and says, “Those are my idiot brothers.”

“Oh, my god,” says Red Robin with more feeling.

“Damian!” Nightwing yells. He lunges forward and slaps his hand over Damian’s mouth as though he can shove the words back in. Damian struggles in his grip and, when that fails, bites down on Nightwing’s fingers. “Ow! Damian!”

Todd sits back and whistles. “Damn, there’s nothing more validating than being Robin’s first crush.”

“Oh, my god,” says Red Robin again, faintly. 

“A crush?” says Nightwing. “A crush! Baby bat, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t think I need to explain why,” says Damian. 

“Wait,” says Todd, “does this mean Bruce Wayne is Batman? ‘Cause I always thought those theories were bullshit.”

Red Robin collects himself. “You’re taking this remarkably well.”

“Well,” says Todd, casting a side-eyed glance at Damian, who struggled desperately to suppress the rush of heat in his face, “to be fair, this month has been real fucking weird. Why not get used to my new normal?”

Damian lost the fight against his blush. If he is interpreting this right—and he is, of course he is, he was trained by the League of Shadows and Batman—then Todd is saying he’s going to keep being Damian’s friend, which means Damian still has a chance to win his Beloved’s affections. He considers this a mission success.


End file.
